


somewhere between the sand and the stardust

by coupe_de_foudre



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, no beta we die like men, the boot camp au that nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22882357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coupe_de_foudre/pseuds/coupe_de_foudre
Summary: They may have only just met but it feels as though they’ve known one another since birth. It’s the same with the other boys in their platoon; this familial bond that you only get from being forced through thick and thin together.-or that one boot camp au nobody asked for
Relationships: Andrew A. "Ack-Ack" Haldane/Edward "Hillbilly" Jones, Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge, Robert Leckie/Bill "Hoosier" Smith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started because I was craving loosier content and then I was reading [this amazing fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5504105) and somehow questioned what it'd be like if the boys all went to marine corps boot camp together. I've read into the process of boot camp a lot before starting this (so I've tried to make it as accurate as possible but obviously some things won't be, for story purposes). 
> 
> Pretty much a purely self-indulgent fic, focused mainly on my holy trio in this fandom (loosier, andyeddie and sledgefu). If you decide to read this then thank you so much! I hope you enjoy it <3

“How’s the princess doing?” Leckie smiles, slipping into the medic barracks whilst just narrowly missing a run-in with one of the nurses. “Sorry, ma'am.” 

She dismisses his apologetic smile with a light pat to the shoulder, continuing on her way down the corridor and leaving Leckie free to walk up to the nearest rack – by one of the only windows of the barracks, golden light casting a hazy glow over half of the room. 

“Dunno, how are you?” comes his belated reply, the source of the words smirking up at him from his position on the rack. Leckie mocked offense, hand over his heart, as he stopped just shy of the other boy’s feet.

“I’ll have you know, I’m your knight in shining armour!” The laugh that follows is glorious and Leckie briefly wishes he could preserve the sound and keep it to play on repeat on days he’s not feeling so great. 

“Some sort of Prince Charming?” Hoosier jokes, eyes heavy as he watches Leckie place his pack down on the floor beside his rack.

Leckie nods, glancing up to meet Hoosier's gaze. “Exactly that. I got the looks, don’t I?”

Hoosier shrugs, “Thought Disney Princes were s'posed to be blond and...ya know, good looking?”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” Leckie states, swatting at Hoosier's legs to make room on the edge of his rack to position himself comfortably, “Clearly the morphine has made you delirious.”

“Ain't on no morphine.”

“Oh really? That why your speech’s still slurred.” Leckie's only teasing now; Hoosier can talk with a lot more ease today compared to Friday, just after his procedure. The younger boy had been one of the unlucky few to not have his wisdom teeth taken out before boot camp and therefore was subject to spending three days holed up in here.

The blond is punching his arm now, albeit not with the intent to leave any lasting pain. “That’s just my Indianan charm. Don’t be a dick.”

Raising his hands in surrender, Leckie smiles down at his friend. They may have only met two weeks ago but, to Leckie at least, it feels as though they’ve known one another since birth. It’s the same with the other boys in their platoon; everyone feels this familial bond between one another that you only get from being forced through thick and thin together. Coming from a family that doesn’t much care for one another in a personal manner, Leckie seems to be the one struggling most with this new feeling.

“What've I missed then?” Hoosier asks, nudging Leckie in the ribs to get his attention.

Pulling a face that he hopes says ‘eh, not much’ Leckie shrugs. “Sunday today so we ain’t done much. Runner gone done his name proud though; got himself the fucking runs.” Hoosier barks a laugh, the rack shaking beneath them. “’side from that? Reckon you’re good. You’re just lucky you’ve only missed two days of training.”

“And that I’m the DI's favourite.” 

“Piss off.” Leckie rolls his eyes, fighting the urge to smile yet again. “That’s just ‘cause Larkin fucking hates me.”

“Was your own fault. Shouldn't’ve sassed him on day one.”

“How’s it _my_ fault when he was the one singling me out? I ain’t the only recruit to wanna take a piss.”

Hoosier made a thoughtful sound, shifting so that he was leant against a propped up pillow. “Still reckon you could’ve not interrupted him. Rookie mistake, man.” 

Leckie just huffs, arms crossed and avoiding Hoosier's eyes because he was right. He just wasn’t going to let the blond know that. “Whatever.”

They sit in a silence for a moment, not particularly comfortable but not awkward enough for either of them to feel the need to break it. That is, until they both hear a shuffling across the room and their attention is drawn to two other boys. Andy and Eddie, Leckie believes they’d introduced themselves as yesterday. Or Ack-Ack and Hillbilly, respectively, as they've apparently been dubbed. 

“Hillbilly, you seen my socks?” 

The taller of them, by about an inch, looks up from where he’s dragged his pack out and groans. “You leave ‘em on my rack?”

Ack-Ack looks slightly embarrassed, Leckie notes, nodding his head. This only causes the other boy to groan again and start throwing things haphazardly out of his pack.

“Andy, I swear to the Almighty ‘imself,” he's mumbling, before crying out a proud “Ah-ha!” and launching a pair of regulation white socks at Ack-Ack – who manages to catch them with surprising ease. “Next time, don’t leave your shit near mine?”

It’s hardly a threatening tone, especially not with the small smile residing on Hillbilly's face, but Ack-Ack still agrees. Leckie finds it funny; the two seem to get on like peas in a pod (he’d been watching them last night after Hoosier drifted off to sleep, and they practically had a conversation without even uttering a single word), yet they only met each other a couple weeks ago. Both had been in separate platoons, the unit ahead of Leckie's, but suffered injuries that landed them in the medic barracks for just shy of a month. They'd supposedly been offered to join his and Hoosier's platoon, but had declined and said they’d prefer to start over from the beginning with tomorrow's fresh blood. Something about unit cohesiveness, and not wanting to be odd-ones-out.

Leckie understands where they’re coming from; anyone joining a platoon that’s already bonded is going to have a hard time.

“So, you leaving then?” Hoosier calls across the room to the older boys, both of which turn to look at them and seem almost surprised that they’re here.

Ack-Ack gathers himself first, nodding whilst he zips his pack up. “Yeah, new recruits should be settling in tonight. We wanna get there just before and grab the best racks.” 

“Ack-Ack here just wants to seem important.” Hillbilly teases.

“Shut up, I just reckon they can learn from us. We’ve been through this before, I want to help them.” 

Leckie laughs under his breath, but he kind of envies the fresh blood that’s going to have two experienced guys with them. The first week isn't easy, but at least these two know what to expect and can offer support.

“Well, enjoy.” Hoosier laughs, “Don’t be too hard on them, though.”

Hillbilly shakes his head, slinging his pack onto his shoulders. “Nah, that’s the DI's job.”

“Y'ain't wrong there.”

Waving as they pass by, Leckie calls out, “Oh, and don’t be strangers!”

Ack-Ack chuckles, “We won't.” 

And then they’re gone, and the room is once again quiet. There’s a couple other recruits in here but they’re either sleeping or minding their own business. Which means Leckie feels slightly less awkward as Hoosier reaches for his shirt and pulls him down to lay beside him on the rack – squeezed into an impossibly tight space. He’s close enough to feel Hoosier’s warm breath on his face when the blond turns to look at him, that same lop-sided smile gracing his lips. Leckie finds himself returning it with a breathless laugh. 

“You bring anything to read?”

Leckie nods, leaning down to reach into his pack in search of his current reading book. He winces when Hoosier's elbow digs into his ribs with the movement, kicking his shin and grumbling out a muffled, “Budge over, would you?”

Hoosier does as he asks, thankfully, and they soon settle into a slightly less uncomfortable position. For a rack only meant to hold one man, they’re managing surprisingly well; legs a tangled mess, backs leant against the wall and sides pressed flush together. Leckie tries hard not to look into it too much, especially when Hoosier let’s out a contented sigh and seems to shuffle closer.

“Comfy?” he asks instead, looking down to see Hoosier lean his head on his shoulder, eyes looking at the book in Leckie's hand. 

“Mhmm,” is the only response he gets, but that’s good enough for him, and so Leckie begins to read aloud – voice soft enough not to disturb any of the other recruits.

He’s not sure how long he stays but, by time he’s slipping his bookmark between the pages, the light outside has gone and it’s replaced by a faint shimmer from the moon, leaving the room in a peaceful darkness only ruined by the few lamps beside recruits not yet sleeping. The head on his shoulder has grown heavy, deep, even breaths leading Leckie to the conclusion that Hoosier had fallen asleep at some point. Tilting his head down, the sight of closed eyelids and slightly parted lips – letting out quiet snores – only further confirms this.

With a smile, Leckie gently manoeuvres the blond off of his shoulder, positioning his pillow so that he won’t wake up tomorrow with a cricked neck. He’s just sliding off the rack himself, book in hand and watching the content look on Hoosier’s face, when a familiar voice cuts through the silence. 

“Hey, Leckie?”

Turning to the doorway, Leckie finds his other three friends peering into the room: Runner, Chuckler and Sid. 

It was Runner who had spoken, the shortest of them all, and he’s looking at Leckie with an almost knowing gaze that has him burning up. He doesn’t know why though because he wasn’t caught doing anything.

“You coming down for some chow?” Runner’s asking, “Don’t wanna let it go cold.”

“Yeah, I’m not eating cold, soggy rice again.” Chuckler speaks up, shuddering with a grimace that only comes from the memory of suffering such a misfortune.

Leckie nods, grabbing his stuff and heading out. “Don’t worry, Lew, I wouldn’t make you go through that again.” 

“You better not.” Chuckler threatens, but his smile contrasts his words. Leckie laughs, sending a quick glance over his shoulder back at his friend before the four of them walk down the corridor and in the direction of the mess hall. 

“Don’t worry,” Sid's hand is on his shoulder now and Leckie fixes the youngest of the group with a questioning look. Sid isn’t deterred, only offering him a warm smile. “He'll be back with us tomorrow.” And he’s right, isn’t he? Hoosier gets discharged tomorrow morning and will be back to his regular havoc causing before they have time to properly enjoy his return. 

Managing a rare, genuine smile at the thought, Leckie nods his thanks to Sid before he’s drawn into an argument with the other two about coconuts.

. . .

“This place makes medic seem like a luxury 5 star hotel.” Eddie laughs, throwing his pack onto a rack beside the one Andy has claimed. He’s not wrong; the narrow room lined with empty racks soon to be filled with new and boisterous recruits is definitely a downgrade to the quiet, spacious medic barracks. “You looking forward to it?”

“Hmm?” Andy glances up from his hands to meet Eddie’s inquisitive look, the curly-haired boy looking down at him. A warmth spreads under Andy's ribs as the boy takes a seat on his rack, their legs sharing the small space between them and causing their knees to occasionally brush together. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Forever in the clouds, Haldane.” and there’s something in the way that he says it that makes it sound like Eddie has known him forever. “Thoughts on redoing Phase One?” he clarifies.

“Ah,” Andy hums, pondering the question. It’s not ideal, that’s for sure; but starting from day one with the new recruits will make it easier on them and the rest of the platoon. And, whilst the first four weeks of camp hadn’t been his favourite days, he hopes that things may be different with Eddie at his side. “I think I’m going to enjoy it. At least we know what to expect now.”

Eddie nods, leaning back on his hands and resulting in their legs pressing even closer together. The blond doesn’t seem to notice or care about the contact, but it’s sending Andy into an internal frenzy of spiralling thoughts that he almost definitely shouldn’t be thinking. 

“It might be fun,” Andy is forced to focus on the present rather than his subconscious, “Least I got you this time ‘round.” It’s astounding how the other can seemingly read Andy's mind. The only difference is, Eddie is comfortable enough to speak them aloud.

Not leaving Andy any time to think over what this might mean, Eddie swings his legs up onto his rack, arms sliding under his pillow and resting his head of curls on top. He looks surprisingly content on the flat bed, despite having to tuck his legs to fit, and the hints of a smile play at the corner of his mouth as he closes his eyes. 

“’m gonna get some shut-eye. Before the newbies get here.” 

“Alright,” Andy speaks softly, resisting the urge to add ‘sweet dreams’. Sure, they’ve gotten close over the past couple weeks – that happens when you’re practically bed-bound and have no other source of entertainment beside an old book and a couple of comics. 

Toeing his boots off, Andy curls up on his own rack and grabs some paper and a pen. It’s getting dark out fast, and he wants to finish today’s letter before he isn’t able to see two inches in front of his face. Not that there’s any rush because he's been writing letters home since he got here but stores them all in his pack; they’re not allowed to send anything out of camp, they don’t even get anything brought in. Andy just finds it calming, retelling the events of the day as though he’s back home – sat around the dinner table, talking to his family and listening to how their days went too. 

He misses that. He misses them.

But that's a sacrifice that comes with being in the Marine Corps. If he’s to get shipped out halfway across the world someday, he’ll have to get used to not seeing his family as often as he’d like. All of the recruits will have to do the same. 

_I’ll make a new family here_ , Andy thinks, sneaking a glance over to Eddie and smiling to himself.

. . .

Eugene’s tired. So tired. In fact, he can’t think of a time in his entire life in which he’s felt more tired than he does right now.

He’s not the only one, either. He can tell by the way Leyden sags his shoulders, the pack on his back practically swallowing him whole. Oswalt's no better off; feet dragging on the gravel as they tread their way to their new sleeping barracks.

Because apparently the ones they’d been sleeping in for the past week weren’t permanent. No, now they had to move halfway across the camp to some totally different building where the rest of their platoon is supposedly already waiting for them. Or, at least, that’s what Eugene understood in his sleep deprived state.

Tomorrow is their first day of real training.

Eugene is _not_ looking forward to it. If he thought the past week had been tough (and now he’s just finding out that the training hasn’t even begun?) he reckons he's screwed. 

“Lookie here, boys, fresh blood!” a southern drawl sounds out the moment the three of them step into their new sleeping quarters. A quick sweep of the room shows it to be almost identical to their old barracks. 

Five out of the eight racks available have already been claimed. Two are sat up on the edge of their racks, the middle two to the far left of the room. The furthest one has been claimed by a shirtless guy, staring at them like a predator to prey. The two racks by the doorway have been taken by the others. 

“Uh, hi. Is this King Company?” Eugene asks, stepping further into the room with Leyden and Oswalt close at his heels.

“The one and only.” the guy by the door says, swinging his legs off his rack to sit up. “Name's Burgie. That over there’s Jay,” he points to the guy opposite. “Then we've got Ack-Ack and Hillbilly and Snafu over in the corner.” Eugene finds his eyes falling on the latter, surprised to be met with a smirk.

He vaguely hears Leyden introduce the three of them to Burgie and the others.

“So what’s the deal with you lot?” Oswalt questions. 

Burgie shrugs. “Didn't pass the first Physical so we got dropped.”

“What and you got pushed back to week one?”

“Blame Snafu over there, fucker likes to dig his holes deep.”

“Don’t blame me for your weak-ass muscles, De L'Eau.” 

One of the guys in the middle pipes up, “Hey, we weren’t dropped.”

“Nah, you just snapped your fucking arm.” Snafu says, “All that wanking, I bet.”

Ack-Ack, Eugene thinks that’s what Burgie said, rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Didn’t deny it.”

“I shouldn’t need to deny it, you’re being an idiot.”

“Me? An idiot?” Snafu scoffs but whatever else he was going to say gets cut off by a pillow thrown to his face. He glares at the culprit, but there’s humour in his eyes. “Now c’mon Hillbilly, don’t spoil my fun.”

Hillbilly has the grace not to respond and give Snafu any more ammo to go off of, catching the pillow tossed his way easily and stuffing it behind his back to lean against. “You guys should get comfy, early morning t’morrow.”

Figuring Hillbilly is right, Eugene goes to take the rack closest – which happens to be opposite Snafu's – but he’s stopped when a boot is thrown on top of it.

He turns to glare at Snafu and finds him leant back, lazy smirk on his face, staring Eugene out with his overly-large eyes. “Taken.” He then goes to do the same to the other two empty racks, leaving Leyden and Oswalt as confused as Eugene feels. 

He’s just about debating marching back to the DI and demanding a change of platoon because he’s not sure he can put up with this crap without any sleep, when Jay stands up with a huff and chucks the various items of clothing off of their racks.

“Fuck off, Snafu.” he gestures for the three of them to sit, “Ignore him. He gets off on being a dick.”

“Better than being some lame-ass pussy.” Snafu says and Eugene feels his skin crawl at the tone. Yet, he’s also strangely intrigued by the Cajun. 

Setting onto his rack, pack slid underneath and boots kicked off, Eugene finally behind to relax. The group falls into a light conversation, filling them in on what they can expect tomorrow and sharing a couple stories about their last platoons. Everyone seems happy here. Sure, they bicker and argue but there’s never any bite behind the words. 

Leyden’s telling them about one of the recruits they joined with, Peck – otherwise known as Kathy – and how he'd lost his shit on Black Friday after the Drill Instructor got in his face and started screaming about grooming standards. They’re all laughing. It feels natural.

“He’s gonna enjoy tomorrow then.” Burgie says, and Eugene gets the sense that he's being sarcastic. 

He also gets the sense that he's being watched and he turns his head to find Snafu staring unashamedly at him from his rack opposite. What’s stranger is how the guy doesn’t even bother to look away, instead choosing to meet Eugene’s eyes as he swipes a pink tongue over his lower lip. Blinking, pushing down the heat that floods his face, Eugene forces himself to look away. Something about Snafu was already getting under his skin.

Tomorrow was definitely going to be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worried that I was going to lose inspiration for this fic but I watched a video about the confidence course they have to do in Boot Camp and was hit with ideas so yay!
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy <3

The boys weren’t wrong about an early morning Monday. Eugene comes to realise this at about 0500 as Haney (their new Drill Instructor) storms into the barracks screaming at the top of his lungs. “Get your sorry asses outta those racks and let’s turn you into some hardened marines!”

A sleepy chorus of “Aye, sir!” echoes back and then he's marching out again, warning them that if they’re not stood in formation in front of him in 10 minutes he’ll be getting them all on calisthenics for the whole week.

Trying to keep his grumbling to a minimum, Eugene rolls out of his rack and stumbles around the limited free space available to them as he tries to shove on the required uniform: cargo pants and a camo-coloured tee to match, tucked in under his belt. 

“Looking good, sledgehammer.” Snafu drawls, leaning casually against the doorway as he watches Eugene, somehow already dressed.

Before Eugene can retort back with any sort of stuttered insult, Burgie smiles, “Sledgehammer,” he looks his way, “I like that.” 

They all start moving out, Leyden’s protests of not having a nickname yet making them laugh. Snafu says something about calling him a little hammer, Eugene can’t quite hear from the back of the group and, anyway, he’s far too preoccupied thinking about the way Snafu had smiled at him. An actual smile, not a smirk? His chest clenches and Eugene shakes his head – breaking out into a steady run with the rest of the platoon. He must be really fucking sleep deprived.

“Meet your new best friend!” Haney sends them a wild smile, shoving M16A4 rifles into each of their hands and rambling instructions on how to disassemble, clean and reassemble the weapons efficiently. Eugene tries his best to pay attention, but it’s lot easier said than done. Especially when all he wants, more than anything, is to crawl back to bed and sleep for the next 24 hours. 

“Sledge!” Eugene stands to attention.

“Yes, sir!”

“What in God's name are you doing?”

Fighting back the almost immediate urge to voice his confusion, Eugene looks to his left and finds the rest of his platoon staring at him from positions on the floor – all at various stages of disassembling their rifles. “Sorry, sir.” 

He drops to the ground, getting to work and praying that Haney won’t get him doing push-ups. Luck seems to be on his side as the man walks away without another word. 

It, however, does not seem to be with him as he struggles to disassemble his rifle. The locks keep jamming as he's clicking them off and he almost finds himself swearing one too many times. Haney shouts another couple insults his way as he walks by, inspecting the cleanliness of each recruit’s rifle with white gloves on. Apparently, they’re never going to be fucking clean enough.

“Hey,” Eugene looks up from his shaking hands to find Hillbilly leaning close to him. “Don’t worry. This time next week this is all gonna be second nature to ya.”

“Yeah, right.” he says, but he tries not to doubt Hillbilly's words. It’s not hard to notice how the dropped recruits all seem to be handling their weapons with ease, an air of confidence surrounding them. 

With newly reinstalled hope, Eugene manages to separate the upper and lower receivers. Maybe he isn’t so shit after all.

The thought doesn’t last long. 

Not with the constant physical training and repetitive lessons on Marine Corps History, all whilst seeming to get less and less sleep. That’s without the whole thing of being amongst more experienced recruits, who’ve all (very clearly) been through this before. They’re able to push through PT with little to no complaints afterwards, able to recite word-for-word the values of the Marine Corps and can practically take apart their rifles with their eyes closed. 

Even Leyden doesn’t seem to be falling so far behind, quickly catching on to the training like he was born for that stuff. They all soon learn that what he lacks in height he makes up for in determination.

Eugene, on the other hand, is currently wheezing his way through his last set of today’s pull-ups – only the knowledge that it’s Thursday now, almost Sunday, keeping him going.

“Three!” Haney yells, counting each time Eugene pulls his chin over the bar. “Four! Come on, devil dog, don’t give up now!”

There’s a brief moment, as Eugene’s fingers slip on the metal that’s currently holding his body weight, that maybe he should have listened to his father. Should have just gone to college, got himself a normal career, rather than join the fucking Marine Corps. He should have listened when his father told him not to push his body too far. Instead, Eugene had jumped at the first opportunity to sign up to Boot Camp, determined to prove everyone he knew back home wrong.

“Eight!”

Eugene groans, face grimacing as he feels his arms almost give way. 

“C'mon, sledgehammer! Ain’t giving up on you yet.” Snafu shouts from where the others are stood a couple metres away. Eugene’s heart skips a beat and he swears he’s having a heart attack, almost losing his grip completely, as he turns to meet Snafu's eyes and finds a warm smile being sent his way.

All week, Snafu’s been a confusing mix of insults that cut too deep and then compliments and heartfelt encouragement like this. Eugene can’t make head nor tail of it.

“Alright, Sledge. Stop eye-fucking your man and finish your set.” Haney snaps, but there’s a barely concealed laugh in his voice. Over the past couple of days, Eugene has come to discover that Haney isn’t half as bad as he'd first thought on Monday; sure he’s strict and unnecessarily loud at times, but he also appears to have a lighter side that causes him to make jokes and ask how they’re doing when they look particularly down-beat. Ack-Ack said they should all count themselves lucky because most DIs are ruthless. Haney is definitely a lot more laid-back – though that certainly doesn’t make him any less intimidating.

When he finally completes his last set, Eugene drops down to his feet and goes to stand by his friends, Oswalt passing him to start on his own calisthenics. 

“Well done, Gene.” Snafu smirks, eyes wide and full of something Eugene can’t quite decipher, as he pats him on the back. “Not bad for a scrawny motherfucker like you.” 

_Ah,_ Eugene thinks, _there’s the Snafu I'm used to._

. . .

How Company run out after their Drill Instructor – Larkin – to the fields. There’s an air of anticipation as everyone awaits what might be assigned to them today. It’s gone noon by now, morning PT finished and followed by timed showers and lunch.

Leckie was already in a disgruntled mood after Larkin made them spend ten whole fucking minutes taking their uniform on and off just because a couple guys didn’t do it in the time he specified. It sucked. But he knew what he was signing up for the moment he'd stepped off of that bus almost a full month ago, and he knew that there was no going back now.

If Leckie was anything, it was determined to prove people wrong. That meant his parents, all their neighbours back home that thought of him as a low-life, good-for-nothing rebel, and now Larkin too.

“Hey, quit thinking so much. It’s distracting.” Hoosier says from his left and, as Leckie spares him a glance, he notices the light bead of sweat already forming over his skin. 

“Fuck off,” he laughs back, picking up speed to close the growing gap between him and Chuckler in front.

They eventually come to a stop on the outskirts of a collection of various wooden structures – Leckie feels exhausted already, just looking at them. An elbow nudges his ribs and Leckie turns to look at Runner, who's grimacing. “Reminds me of that obstacle course from week one.”

Matching Runner's distaste, Leckie focuses his concentration back to Larkin – who is currently demonstrating how to properly use the first obstacle (a large wall, with only two ropes dangling down). “I want one recruit on a rope at a time! Once you get to the top, you swing your leg over – like so – and drop down. Got it?”

“Aye, sir!” the company shouts.

“Well then what are you waiting for? Get a move on!”

There’s a manic rush of noise and movement for a brief moment before they manage to line up in an orderly fashion, two recruits running towards the start of the course. A chorus of encouraging yells breaks out, everyone supporting each other with the same good morale they’d used every other day previous. Morale was an important value in the Marine Corps, Leckie had soon come to learn. 

When it finally gets to Leckie's turn, Hoosier pats him on the back and gives him a push as he starts to run. Sid is by his side, and they both jump for a rope each, hauling their bodies up whilst using their feet against the wall to steady themselves. The burn of his biceps is something Leckie isn’t sure he'll ever get used to, but that doesn’t deter him; grunting as he heaves himself up the last couple of inches to the top. 

“That’s it boys! Now over and drop!” Larkin barks up at them. Leckie lets out a heavy breath, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Last to the ground is a rotten tomato!” Sid sings, already throwing his leg over the very top log and winking at Leckie. 

“So mature,” Leckie drawls, but he’s scrambling to the other side, keeping an iron grip on the rope to stop himself from slipping.

All he hears is the sound of Sid's laughter as they both release, his heart in his mouth at the sudden drop and only just remembering to bend his knees in time to prevent a medical disaster. Sid straightens up beside him and smirks. “Call it a draw?”

Pretending to think it over for a moment before laughing, Leckie shakes his head. “Nah. Rematch on this next bit!” He's heading off in a sprint towards to next obstacle – a series of logs (like a horizontal ladder), where the recruits have to weave their bodies first under and then over log after log until the end. The ultimate test of full body strength; having to not only hold yourself up for a good few minutes but also manoeuvre around objects. But Leckie feels full of adrenaline now and he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for the guy in front of him to move.

“Oh, it’s on, Leckie.” 

Friday doesn’t bring along as much fun as Monday had. They’re tasked with a big strength and endurance run, the sun deciding today that it can’t be bothered to make an appearance.

Leckie isn’t sure what's worse: completing the run under the current moody, grey clouds and threat of rain or doing it whilst worrying about heat exhaustion and burning. 

The run is essentially only half a mile long, but there’s pit-stops at random intervals where they fill the time with squats, mountain climbers, pull-ups, ammo lifts and push-ups. 

“Keep your elbows locked at the push out, Hoos.” Leckie reminds his friend, monitoring him as he completes his set of ammo lifts.

“Christ, you’re bossy.”

Leckie chuckles, arms crossing over the front of his chest. He makes sure to keep a mental count of the lifts as he replies, “Yeah, well, I ain’t letting you get injured.”

“You don’t want me to get dropped, you mean.”

“Same thing.”

Hoosier peers over at him, across his bicep – which Leckie is definitely not admiring; he’s not mesmerised by how the blond's muscles push out from under his top because that would be weird. 

“No, it’s not. You don’t want me to be dropped because then you don’t get to see me every day.” Leckie hates the stupid know-it-all tone in Hoosier's voice, and he may accidently-on-purpose skip back a couple of counts in his mind.

“Yeah, because how could I live without seeing your ugly mug when I wake up.”

Hoosier smirks, continuing his set with an ease that isn’t fair. How he can look scrawny and weak some days and then pull shit like this, not even out of breath, Leckie will never understand.

“Right, you’re done.” he says eventually, holding his hands out to take the 30 pound box from Hoosier's hands and matching the bright grin sent his way.

“Thanks,” Hoosier says, pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe his face quickly before Larkin sees him do it. Leckie’s eyes subconsciously travel down to the already firm abs Hoosier has, a trail of dark blond hair disappearing below his belt, and his breath gets caught in his throat. “Like what you see?” Hoosier asks, trademark smirk back on his face as he tucks his top back in. 

Leckie clears his throat, moving to stand where Hoosier had just been and shifting the weight of the ammo can in his hands. He doesn’t dignify Hoosier with a response, partly because he doesn’t have any sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue and partly because it's true. But like fuck will he admit to it.

. . .

It’s Sunday, at last. They’re all exhausted – spread out across the dry grass, in a makeshift yet wobbly-edged circle, out on the back field. Their one day off in the week. They’ve decided that they're going to make the most of it by doing fuck all.

It's already late afternoon, much to Eddie's disappointment. The day seems to have flown by in the blink of an eye. 

It'd been in the mess hall during dinner that Eddie had spotted Leckie's familiar head of unruly curls in the crowd - because, despite cutting his hair short like everyone else, the ringlets had still managed to make themselves known. Eddie guesses his hair isn’t much better. 

On their way out of the hall, he'd ducked down to let Leckie and his friends know that they'd be out on the field if they wanted to join. Which, undoubtedly, they had. And so they were here, mingling as one group of friends like they'd all known each other from day one.

It’s nice. Eddie likes the constant sound of multiple conversations, sudden bursts of laughter here and there and occasionally a shout from Runner when he loses (quite often, Eddie notes) at the game of poker he's playing with two other guys - Chuckler and Sid. The blond one, Sid, hasn’t said where he found the old pack of cards. Eddie decides he won’t ask. Their game is hardly worth playing really, other than just to kill time, because the only winnings are a couple of stray buttons and a pen Chuckler had thrown in last minute. Runner must just be particularly competitive.

Across the circle from him, Leckie has his legs stretched out with Hoosier's head resting on his lap. Leckie is drumming a random tune that Eddie doesn’t recognise on Hoosier's stomach, Hoosier smiling softly with an arm thrown casually over his eyes to shield them from the setting sun overhead. Eddie wonders whether either of them are even aware how obvious they are. 

Well, clearly not obvious to each other.

“So, Eddie,” Burgie calls out to him and Eddie snaps his attention his way. “I hear you play guitar?”

Cheeks flushing red, Eddie turns to glare at Andy because he'd only told one person here about that. Andy, to his credit, at least has the decency to look embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “It just slipped out.”

With a light roll of his eyes, Eddie turns back to Burgie. “Yeah. I used to play for church services back home.”

“You went to church?” Snafu asks, not doing a very good job at hiding his disgust. Sledge hits his arm and they break into a hushed argument that everyone decides to ignore for the time being.

“You reckon they'll have a guitar here?” Jay pipes up, hopeful smile on his face. “It'd be cool if you could play us a few songs one day.”

Andy sits up beside him, his hand unintentionally falling on top of Eddie’s but making no move to lift it. “I'll ask Haney tomorrow. See if there’s any chance we could get hold of one.”

Eddie wants to protest, blushing furiously (and definitely at the idea of his new friends hearing him play and not at the fact that Andy is practically holding his hand), but he can’t bring himself to tell them not to bother. He'd be lying if he said the thought of getting his hands on a good guitar again wasn’t a nice one; he's missed his old Caroline, wonders if his sister is making sure to dust her down every other day like he'd told her to. 

Everyone’s pulled away from thoughts of happy campfire sing-a-longs by Snafu's snarl of, “Fuck you, Eugene.” 

Quickly followed by Sledge shouting, “Yeah? Fuck you, too, Shelton!”

Eddie genuinely thinks they’re about to throw fists when Burgie, ever the peace-maker of King Company, leans in between them. “Hey, now, both of you calm down.”

Snafu's murderous glare turns to Burgie and Eddie can’t help but wonder what he and Sledge had been talking about to cause the outburst. Not that it’s unusual. Over the past week, Eddie has come to learn (as have the other boys in the platoon) that these two are a fucking whirlwind of confusion. It's all exhaustion and sexual frustration combined into a deadly mix that blows up every other hour. One moment they’re flirting like schoolkids, the next they’ll be wrestling in the mud until someone has to drag them apart.

“I wish you actually _would_ just fuck each other.” Leyden grumbles, causing the rest of them to crack a smile. Snafu, however, doesn’t seem to find his words very humorous and before anyone knows what’s happened Leyden is choking on a mouthful of grass and dirt. 

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Snafu yells, fist curling and landing a solid punch to Leyden’s jaw. Leyden groans out in pain, kicking his legs that Snafu has held down and trying his best to fight back. It’s no use, though; Snafu had the advantage (and experience, by the looks of it). Burgie and Jay both jump up, shouting at Snafu to stop, and start pulling the Cajun off of their friend. 

Eddie watches Leyden sit back up and wince when he touches his jaw. There’ll be a bruise there tomorrow, no doubt. And Haney will be asking questions. 

At least they’re starting Martial Arts classes soon so Leyden can catch-up with the rest of them on his fighting skills. Perhaps then, the next fight (and there’s undoubtedly going to be another, Eddie would bet good money on that) will at least be a fair one.

“Piss off,” Snafu says, shrugging Burgie and Jay’s hands off of him. They hesitate at first, but seeing Snafu settle back down into his spot between Sledge and Leckie they give in.

  
Leckie raises an eyebrow at the feisty recruit, obviously not used to the aggressive behaviour, but he’s wise enough not to comment on what just happened. Eddie thinks he saw Hoosier glance up for a moment before seemingly deciding it wasn’t more important than sleep, whilst the other three had just watched from the side-lines.

“I'd’ve fuckin’ won,” Snafu mutters, crossing his legs and bumping Sledge in the process. “Weak, city boy can’t fight for shit.” 

Eddie holds his breath, hoping Leyden hadn’t heard and that Sledge wouldn’t try to initiate his own bust-up just to defend his friend. It wasn’t worth it. 

But, surprisingly, Sledge appears to fight back a smile as he rolls his eyes at Snafu. Snafu winks at Sledge, leaning forward to shake his curls free of the mud he'd managed to get in them, and Eddie just watches in disbelief. Another couple of months with these fiery idiots was going to send him insane.

Andy appeared to be sharing his thoughts, leaning close to whisper in his ear, “Those two.”

Humming in agreement, Eddie turns his head slightly to his side and gasps when he realises how close Andy is to him. Andy either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care, because he makes no attempt to move back. 

“I feel like we're their parents sometimes.” Andy laughs, voice only loud enough for Eddie to barely catch the words himself. Feeling a light blush spread across his cheeks, Eddie leans down to prop himself up on his elbows and admire the gradually darkening sky above them.

“Well, if we're their parents, you’re definitely the mother.” He sways to the side as Andy shoves him, causing a smile to stretch across his face. The conversations around them fade into background noise, comforting and familiar, and Eddie lets his eyes slide closed so he can enjoy the rare moment of peace.

Surrounded by so many people that make him happy, sat out on a field with the stars above as extra company, Eddie feels like he’s back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everyone reading. And those of you that left comments or came to talk on [Tumblr](https://a-beautiful-struggle-of-life.tumblr.com/) with me about the last chapter, I love you!! 
> 
> All kudos/comments are greatly appreciated! It's such a relief to know other people are interested in this AU and not just me xD

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! Even if it's criticism, it's greatly appreciated. 
> 
> I really hope to continue this, but I have no clue how long I plan it to be so I also haven't a clue how long it might take. Please be patient with me xD
> 
> Love you guys <3


End file.
